Except it’s more than that. Luca doubts their father realizes Sam inherited his guilt along with his dark eyes and impressive determination. Luca never met Magnus, but his legacy has been a far reaching one. It’s as if Kian spent his whole life desperate to prove Askala’s worth to his dead father.
And now Sam is.
Kian’s shoulders slump. “Please, I’m begging. You know how to survive out there, she doesn’t.”
And just like that, the decision is made for him.
Kian and Nova have never asked him for anything before. They didn’t ask him to change no matter how much his energy drove them crazy. They didn’t ask him to stop climbing or running or following Phoenix around like a shadow.
They didn’t ask him to stay.
Luca straightens his shoulders, feeling his chance at getting any answers as to why he was left by his mother like a piece of rubbish slip away.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
HAWK
Hawk tries to free himself, one little sister at a time.
“Come on, Dove,” he says gently to his most persistent sister. “I need to talk to Mom.”
“But I don’t want you to go!” There are tears trailing down her face as she refuses to release his waist. “What if you never come back? You’re the only brother I have!”
Her tears turn to wails and Hawk gives up freeing himself, bending over instead to wrap his arms around her.
He wants to tell her that he might not even make it through this second Proving, but he’s determined that won’t be the case. He wants to tell her that he’ll see her again, but he’s not sure if that’s true. So instead, he tells her that she’ll always be his sister, which means a part of her will always be with him.
But this only makes Dove cry harder and their dad has to peel her off Hawk and try to soothe away her tears by peppering kisses across her damp cheeks.
“Hush now, my little turtle dove,” he coos.
“Can we go for a walk, Mom?” Hawk asks.
She looks at Hawk’s father, anxiously.
“Go, Flick,” his father says, warmly. “I’ll take the girls home.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Hawk wraps an arm around his mother’s slender frame and leads her away.
She melts into his side, gripping him tightly around his back. He’s acutely aware of the missing finger in her grasp. This is why he needs to speak to her. His father may have been from the Outlands originally, but it’s his mom who understands what these tests are like. She failed her Proving when she was his age and it had cost her dearly. It had almost cost him the opportunity of being born. If it weren’t for Mercy’s grandfather messing with the chip that was supposed to make his mom sterile, he wouldn’t be here right now.
“Are you disappointed in me?” he asks.
His mom pushes a curl out of her eyes to look up at him. “I could never be disappointed in you. You’re my boy.”
Silence hangs in the air and Hawk knows she’s thinking about the baby she lost in the Outlands. His older brother or sister who never had the chance to use those tiny lungs that had started to grow.
She touches him gently on the cheek as if checking he’s real. “I always expected you’d leave me one day, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare me.”
All the words he’d wanted to say to Dove just now come back to him. And they’re just as useless now.
He stoops to kiss his mother on the forehead. He knows not everyone in Askala loves her. She has an uncanny tendency to rub people the wrong way—especially his aunt Wren—but he sees the same things his father saw when he fell in love with her.
She’s brave. She’s loyal. She’s the strongest woman Hawk’s ever known. And her heart knows no limits, stretching and expanding every time she’s welcomed a new child into her life. If only he could find the words to tell her all of this. Words have always been so much harder to form on his tongue than in his mind. He just has to hope that she understands him as much as he believes he understands her.
“The world needs you.” His mom pauses her steps to turn to him and straighten the collar of his shirt. “We raised you to be a good man. We need more good men…out there. As much as I don’t want you to pass, I hope you do. You were born to do great things.”
Hawk closes his eyes and draws her words in on a deep breath, using them to feed his courage. His ambition. His soul.
And when he stretches out in his bed later that night with his feet sticking out over the end, he repeats his mother’s words. You were born to do great things.
He says them over and over inside his head, eventually drifting off into a deep sleep wrapped in the comfort of both his blanket and his mother’s love.
But when he wakes, his belief in the words has vanished. Instead, he’s filled with thoughts of Sam. How can he do great things if she’s not by his side? Will he be able to perform well enough to earn enough tokens to get them both through?
And will she even let him help her now that her precious brother has returned?
Hauling himself out of bed, he wonders if he’s going to be able to get to the door of his family’s hut without waking anyone. The last thing he needs is more drama from Dove. He needs a clear head when he enters the Proving Center. He’ll never be able to focus on his first test with the stains from his sister’s tears still fresh on his shirt.
He goes to the door, flinching when he feels someone standing behind him, relieved when he turns to see it’s his dad.
Opening the door, he steps out of the hut, his father right behind him. He used to think his father was the size of a mountain. It’s strange to stand face to face with him now as physical equals. Maybe one day he’ll be able to stand before him as true equals in every sense.
“I want you to be careful,” his dad says. “The Outlands can be brutal.”
“It’s the Newlands, Dad,” Hawk says, even though it makes no difference. “And we don’t know if I’m going yet.”
His father shakes his head. “Perhaps I should’ve told you more stories. Prepared you better for what’s out there.”
Hawk sighs. He was always so different to his father, preferring the company of his mom or cousins instead. There were many times his father offered to teach him something only for Hawk to find an excuse to get away.
“That was my fault.” Hawk puts a hand on his father’s forearm. “You taught me more than you know.”
It’s true. It was his father’s stories that lit this ambition that burns deep inside him. His father’s upbringing had been tough but somehow he’d risen above it, proof that not everyone in the Outlands is beyond hope. There must be other people like him out there. People Hawk could reach...if only he were given the chance.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me with all these females.” His father smiles. “I used to be a fierce warrior. Now I’m forced to sit cross legged and pretend to drink cups of mangrove tea while one of your sisters does my hair.”
Hawk laughs gently. It’s true. His sisters tamed their father in a way his mother said she never thought possible. He went from being the son of the Commander of the Outlands to the father of a tribe of Askalan princesses. But Hawk knows he’s never been happier. And that’s all he wants for himself. Which is exactly why he volunteered. His father knows that.